


More To Us

by brutumfulmen



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Love Confessions, Marathon Sex, Not So Unrequited Love, Other, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Crowley (Good Omens), Top Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-23 22:16:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20015650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brutumfulmen/pseuds/brutumfulmen
Summary: Aziraphale is not quite sure how he's supposed to keep his rather inconvenient feelings under-wraps when Crowley seemed determined to wring everything he can out of him.





	More To Us

Aziraphale has not been back to his shop in over two days.

If anyone was looking for him - hopefully not - they would have been hard pressed to consider the upscale Mayfair district as his current place of occupancy.

Especially since the flat he was spending a second night at was not his, but rather Crowley’s.

As for why Crowley has had him over twice in a row…

Well.

It might have only taken six thousand years and a botched Armageddon to get here, but once it started, after they came back from the Ritz on the fateful evening they escaped from their impending deaths, Aziraphale could not help but feel as though someone had pressed on the accelerator and forgot to strap him in.  
  
Crowley, as he always has done over these six thousand years, reached out. In the dim of the bookshop, he had touched Aziraphale as if to reassure them both it was real, catching his lower lip underneath a gentle thumb. 

And Aziraphale had been too open, too exposed to do anything but lean into Crowley's touch, so unlike anything he has experienced before. He might be afraid of traveling above the posted speed limit, but he has always, always been willing to ride passenger to wherever Crowley goes.

Ready? Perhaps not, but that’s why Crowley has gone so slow all these years, why he leaned in so slowly and...

Ah.

It was how he found himself in Crowley’s bed - the demon having asked him to come back to the flat and he more than willingly obliged - awoken unexpectedly despite the darkness still outside. Moonlight beamed through the curtains and gave a soft glow across the dark sheets of the bed, scattering blue along the stark walls of Crowley’s bedroom.

He might not appreciate the cold, harsh interior of Crowley’s flat, but his enormous bed was a luxury Aziraphale never would have expected. Sometime during the night several more blankets had appeared, a blessing to his rather naked form and he smiled at the idea of Crowley grumbling while he threw them across the bed.

A part of him wondered after where Crowley had gone off to until he heard the distant noise of Crowley making his way down the hall back to the bedroom. He was curious as to what Crowley was doing up but too deep in his drowsiness to ask, instead waiting for him to slip back under the covers.

“Up early are you,” Aziraphale murmured into the quiet, not bothering to move from his comfortable position on his side but feeling Crowley’s still presence behind him.

Crowley moved in closer, his hands running along Aziraphale’s skin, up and down his arms and back, his soft sides and legs. Aziraphale has quickly found that Crowley, serpentine creature he is, enjoys wrapping himself around Aziraphale, long limbs encasing and constricting with uncharacteristic gentleness. He keeps his touch light though, with only the hint of nails raking soft skin leaving a trail of shivers in its wake.

“Did I wake you, angel?” He presses a kiss to Aziraphale’s cheek, to his temple, to the shell of his ear.

Aziraphale hums for a moment, letting the gentle caress of Crowley’s lips along his skin stir him further awake before rather blithely answering. “Possibly. You were soon gone, however.”

“Apologies,” he hisses without sounding sincere at all. “I just couldn’t bear to wake you. You seemed so exhausted from our _escapades_.”

Last night, or since it is still night, several hours ago during the late evening, Crowley had been quiet, almost silent during their - dare Aziraphale give himself hope - love making. It had been a terrifying new world, an endless litany of firsts for him to experience in the capable arms of Crowley. Who, even though he never said a word during it all, eased each of Aziraphale’s worries with his touch and mouth.

And, well, other things. Even now he blushes to think of it all.

However, the silent Crowley of the evening they ‘formally retired’ on is a direct contrast to this middle of the night Crowley, who is evidently taking immense glee in Aziraphale flushing with every wicked word he slithers into his ear.

“If I was so cruel as to let you wake up alone...” he feels Crowley’s finger running along his lower back, still dampened with sweat.

Then that finger dips lower. “Surely I must make it up to you, somehow.” Crowley brings it down until it is sliding between Aziraphale’s buttocks, smearing small circles in the sticky fluid Crowley had so - _ah_ \- generously left behind.

“What, oh, did you have in mind?” Aziraphale shivers at the light, teasing touch of Crowley catching a fingertip on his rim, feeling a little bit more of Crowley leak out setting a blush across his cheeks. He can only guess the activities an imagination like Crowley’s is able to conjure up, just his luck that he has decided Aziraphale should be the one to experience them all.

Crowley withdraws his finger and Aziraphale whines at the loss, turning his head just in time to catch him bringing the digit between his lips, sucking pearl-white fluid off it. Aziraphale’s entire body flares hot with embarrassment.

 _Now_ he’s wide awake.

“Crowley! That is—”

“Just taking a bit back of what I gave you,” that long tongue swirls around his own finger and Aziraphale swallows thickly, mesmerised, recalling how that tongue felt on him last night, slick and warm, curling and licking its way inside him.

 _‘Heavens help me,_ ’ Aziraphale prays shakily, but only Crowley will be answering that call.

“Oh, so easy now,” Crowley outright purrs in pleasure when his hand dips back down, spit slicked finger sinking into Aziraphale, still open and wet from just a few hours ago.

 _‘Absolutely divine_ ,’ Crowley muses, already panting at the possibility of being inside the angel again, letting his tongue flick up the pale column of Aziraphale’s neck, twisting it to catch around the lobe of a red-tinged ear. “I bet I could slide into you right now, you’re _that_ pliant, angel.” He crooks his finger, rubbing with careful precision along supple, wet inner walls, feeling Aziraphale instinctively tighten around him.

Aziraphale went bright red, shuddering and arching against Crowley’s firm body. “Crowley we-” a second finger slides in and he chokes, slowly working himself back onto Crowley’s fingers. “We really should rest _ah-_ ”

“Already a fan of sleeping, are you?” Crowley grins at the indignant huff Aziraphale gives, dropping his mouth back to his damp neck, breathing in deeply and delighting in the shiver it induces.

“Shh, angel, it is still very early, there’s plenty of time before morning for you to catch up on much needed rest,” Crowley teases, long fingers now moving, prodding while his thumb idly played along the rim. Aziraphale sighed, turning his head into the pillow only for Crowley to sink his teeth along his love-bitten shoulder.

“Plenty of time for me to show you another way I can make you feel good.” Only Crowley could make it sound like a threat and a promise, but Aziraphale was ready to submit to either one.

Draping his unoccupied arm around Aziraphale’s deliciously plump middle, he strokes Aziraphale in soothing circles. Long fingers take time to squeeze at the soft flesh along his hip, up to grab at Aziraphale’s chest. Aziraphale despite enjoying all this, vaguely notices Crowley is still very much so avoiding his cock to his mounting desperation, rocking harder against Crowley’s dexterous fingers.

Then Crowley fills him with a third finger and at the dull burn Aziraphale feels a tremor of nervousness carry through his body on the waves of pleasure Crowley was inducing. He’s beginning to wonder if he can keep up with this, be able to please what seems to be the endless desires of Crowley. 

However, Aziraphale is a terrible actor and despite his best efforts, Crowley picks up on the sudden retreat. 

“Don’t be so shy, Aziraphale,” Crowley adjusts Aziraphale until he’s now laying on his back with Crowley hovering above him. He pulls away to part Aziraphale’s thick thighs wide for his lithe body to squeeze between. His fingers are still moving and now a fourth is slipping past the stretched entrance with enough pressure to make Aziraphale light-headed.

“You were amazing last night, absolutely incredible in every way. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you here in my arms,” Crowley praises in between kisses to Aziraphale’s lips and face, dipping down to his chest, blooming red marks across every inch. His free hand is running along everywhere it can grab of the flushed creature underneath him, reaching to pinch a nipple hard enough that Aziraphale bucks underneath him.

Aziraphale can only gasp and whimper as Crowley’s fingers worked faster inside him with machine-like efficiency, words overwhelming his already frayed emotional state.

And he is _still_ talking.

“How innocent you are, lured right to my bed and laid down underneath me,” Crowley is clearly getting aroused by his own words and Aziraphale is relieved not to be the only one. “Giving me full control of your body, trusting I wouldn’t just - just—” 

Crowley slides his fingers, pressing the inner wall shared by Aziraphale’s prostate and he can feel Crowley’s thick cock throbbing obscenely against his own, sobbing at the much-needed friction. 

“Crack you wide open and _fuck_ you.”

 _Oh_ , but Crowley made it all sound so blissful. Aziraphale could not help but wonder what it would be like for Crowley to devour him in such a way, his will absolutely consumed under those capable hands.

There is a rhythm in place now, a pace set with an urgency behind it that Aziraphale is carried by.

“Did you," Crowley swallows, eyes wild and golden as they flit over Aziraphale.

"Did you like having a demon take you? I will again soon enough. First, I want to see you fall apart with just _this._ ” The word is hissed, that tongue stretching down, flicking across Aziraphale’s bottom lip in time with his hand.

Aziraphale arches, hips rocking desperately against Crowley. He is already at the edge, has been since they started. His inexperience making it too difficult to slow the burning sensation winding tight in his belly and also preventing him from knowing how to fully tip over the edge. He arched up against Crowley, grinding onto those long fingers, whining high to the point it almost breaks into a sob of frustration - oh who knew this could be _so complicated?_

“I’ve got you,” Crowley murmured, dipping to kiss those parted lips. Fingers are driving harder now, urging the tension building in Aziraphale’s body to take on a sharper edge. His spread legs trembling against Crowley’s lean hips as he rocked into him faster.

“Just like before, remember, let me make it happen for you.”

Crowley’s fingers twisted over his prostate then _pushed_ and with his head thrown back Aziraphale came, heels digging into the sheets as he pulsed hotly between them, shuddering through Crowley’s ministrations. His ears soon filled with whispers of _‘incredible’_ and _‘absolutely perfect’_ and Aziraphale could only lay there as Crowley worked him through the ebb of his orgasm, powerless under the other’s hands, those painfully loving words.

Even before he came down from his high Crowley was withdrawing his fingers, humming low at Aziraphale’s weak whine of protest. Then he grabbed both of Aziraphale’s boneless legs and spread them farther apart for him to nestle deeper between, the blunt, slick tip of his cock rutting blindly against the loosened, twitching rim.

“So good, angel,” Crowley hummed, eyes closing in bliss. “Look at you, I’m never going to stop enjoying this, how _ready_ you are for me after my fingers loosen you up.”

Aziraphale choked on a gasp at the exquisite stretch of Crowley’s cock sliding in, only to groan when it stopped. Crowley, patient demon he is, wasn’t buried fully inside him yet, instead thrusting the tip of his cock in and out of Aziraphale, shallow pushes just enough to tease Aziraphale’s stretched hole, make him crave what is about to take him.

“Will you lay there and let me have you again?” He punctuates this with a fractionally deeper thrust and at Aziraphale’s hitching breath he does it again, working over and over that one spot until he writhes upon Crowley’s cock. “Will you spread your legs for this _wicked_ Serpent?”

 _‘Yes, yes you can have everything of me you already do.’_ He bites his lip against the words, letting only a muffled whine out. Aziraphale grips the sheets with shaking fingers to rein himself in, head thrown to the side, legs bunching up around Crowley’s hips as he presses in agonisingly slow.

Crowley pauses to take Aziraphale’s wrists tightly in his hands, yanking them from their death-grip. Aziraphale gasps, writhing at the pinning of his arms above his head into the pillow and the stretch of Crowley inside him until he feels their hips meet, Crowley’s cock twitching heavy inside him.

“C-Crowley!”

“None of that now,” he mocked lightly, canting his hips and setting a pace deep enough to make Aziraphale’s eyes roll back. “I don’t want you holding anything in.”

Aziraphale bites his lip, heart thundering in his chest at Crowley’s words. Doesn’t Crowley realise there is so much he holds back? So much he can never say or show? It’s enough to give himself to Crowley, to silently love him without complicating matters, surely.

It has to be.

“Stay focused on me, Aziraphale,” he hisses down at Aziraphale’s flushed, dazed face, those blue eyes wide and lost in pleasure that _he_ is giving the angel. He tightens the grip on Aziraphale’s wrists, smirking as his sensitive cock twitches between them, flushed and leaking clear across his soft stomach.

Crowley bares his fangs. “You’re mine,” they glint around his words, white and sharp in the darkness of their - Crowley’s - bedroom, eyes blown fully golden and Aziraphale moans softly to his apparent, grinning delight. He nods quickly, desperately. Anything to keep Crowley moving, keep making that delicious drag of friction within his body.

“Please, please,” Aziraphale pants, shaking in Crowley’s embrace, dipping his head to Crowley’s chest, unable to take the intensity of those golden eyes upon him. Afraid every emotion he has is laid bare for Crowley to see upon his face.

Mercifully, Crowley keeps his steady pace even as his own body began to tremble. Thrusting himself deeper to the point he was just grinding against Aziraphale, knowing very soon he would be releasing as far into him as possible.

“Yes,” Crowley hisses, dropping his lower body so that his taut abdomen at last rubs against Aziraphale’s cock, trapping it between them in the perfect amount of heat and friction bringing Aziraphale right to the edge again. Aziraphale cranes his neck as a moan is ripped from his throat, catching Crowley’s wild eyes still looking down at him, mouth agape, dark brows knitted together in increasingly ragged concentration as he drives them both to orgasm.

He couldn’t withstand it all much longer. The rush of Crowley inside him, short hard thrusts rattling the entire bed, the tightening coil of pleasure ready to snap. All these things were propelling him forward, but it was Crowley dipping down and pressing his sweaty forehead almost reverently to Aziraphale’s that did him in. 

Aziraphale cried out, arms futilely yanking at Crowley's iron grip, shuddering apart to an all-encompassing orgasm, spilling once more between them, moaning out Crowley’s name.

“Crowley - Crowley, oh I _love_ you—”

Crowley groaned low in his throat, mashing his mouth to Aziraphale’s and with a deep, stuttering push of his hips he came wet and hot inside Aziraphale’s quaking body. To Aziraphale’s dazed surprise, Crowley didn’t slow down, his still spurting cock fucking into the angel until Aziraphale could feel himself climbing towards another orgasm, a low burn intense enough to make his toes curl and thighs ache.

After what seemed like forever of Crowley pounding away, a climax bordering on overstimulating hit Aziraphale and he tensed completely, silently gasping out his pleasure, then went slack in Crowley’s grip, cock twitching weakly as it dribbled onto his stomach, pooling with the rest of his release. Crowley’s erratic movements were smearing it across their stomachs until Aziraphale dimly heard a broken, jagged moan and then felt a wet warmth from Crowley filling him again.

At last Crowley slowed down, body shuddering and barely supported by his own trembling arms. With a grunt he finally released Aziraphale’s aching wrists to collapse onto his elbows above the spent angel.

Aziraphale sagged into the bed gasping for air, Crowley’s cock throbbing inside him still, his slack weight sinking atop him. A thin, trembling hand comes up to pet Aziraphale’s hair, luring him into relaxation. Crowley was quietly panting, nosing at Aziraphale’s sweat-soaked curls to drop a kiss upon his temple when Aziraphale heard Crowley’s rasping voice.

“Mind repeating that?”

Aziraphale groaned low, bringing his aching arms down from their stretched position, about to chide that he can barely remember his own name when his earlier words came back to him suddenly.

 _Oh. Oh no._

He closed his eyes, the warmth of his afterglow snuffed out faster than a candle, leaving him just as cold.

“I - I,” hysteria, faster than a tidal wave, is welling up inside him. He weakly attempts to shove Crowley off only for that dense body to resist, pushing back without an effort. Aziraphale swallowed a shameful moan at the feel of Crowley’s cock rubbing inside him.

He turned his head away, still struggling to catch his breath. “It’s nothing, please, let’s just—”

“Just what,” Crowley hissed, voice rough from his multiple orgasms, eyes narrowed to bright amber points in the darkness.

This was absolutely humiliating, only he could manage to ruin everything already. _Why couldn’t I just be satisfied with what we have?_ Aziraphale squeezed his eyes shut, feeling trapped and not in the comforting way it had been just a moment ago.

“I know this isn't - we’re just - that I’m not—” Crowley tensed up over him and Aziraphale’s fright cut his voice short.

“Heavens blessed,” Crowley swore, burying his face in Aziraphale’s neck, breathing in deeply the warm scent of his own Eden. “I should've known I’d miss something so important.”

Aziraphale did not say anything, slowly opening his eyes, the tremor in him magnifying as after a breath Crowley pulled away to look at him, cut in half by the dim light coming from the windows. He could feel a slick rush as Crowley slowly slipped out of his body, unable to stop himself from letting out a whimper. Cool thin hands were then petting him, soothing as Crowley shifted away to lay down beside Aziraphale.

“Ask me now, angel,” Crowley begged, his hands, to Aziraphale’s surprise, never leaving. “Whatever you’re needing me to clarify - should have done so last night _before_ all this, actually - but here we are."

Crowley inhales slowly. "So, please, Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale was back to last evening, when they had returned from their trials and a lovely meal at the Ritz, triumph in their bones and elation in their breast. He was just a few hours ago, back in his chair with Crowley, always Crowley, leaning in with a hand under his chin to pull Aziraphale closer and—

“What,” he swallows, throat dry but unable to break their joined gaze, unable to stop himself from asking.

“What am I to you?”

For a moment, Crowley doesn’t speak, his hands going still upon him. Aziraphale can already feel the stitches he’s been using to keep his heart intact start to break.

“Everything,” Crowley rasps, eyes blown golden and fragile. “I never thought I could have.”

Aziraphale closed his eyes. Rebellious, relief filled tears were breaking free to track down his face and then Crowley is there, pressing soft kisses upon each droplet, hand reaching to cup the angel’s wet cheek. Aziraphale hitched a sob at the kindest, gentlest touch he’s ever known and of course it would be Crowley, who else could it ever be?

“None of that, now. I love you too, Aziraphale,” Crowley murmured before capturing his lips, slippery and earnest as they kissed. When they finally pulled away, Aziraphale could not help but smile at Crowley, half illuminated, half shadow.

Entirely his.

And then Crowley was leaning back in, draping himself over Aziraphale as gently as the moonlight fell upon them both.

**Author's Note:**

> heyo


End file.
